What It Takes
by padawanjinx
Summary: What does it take to bear the burden of leadership? Raph thinks Leo doesn't deserve it, but he's about to find out how difficult it is.


What It Takes

Timeline: After 2014 TMNT, but before Out of the Shadows

AN: Just a random moment that occurred to me during a rainstorm.

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Raph stormed through the tunnels he called home with his three brothers and father. He was in a particularly sour mood since Leo deemed it necessary he should stay behind with Donatello. Said brother was engrossed in his massive bank of computer screens, offering advice over the walkie attached to his shoulder.

The scenario was one Leo had employed with each of them. He would give one of his brother's a task, then monitor their progress from a distance. At the moment, Michelangelo was attempting to gain entry into a museum, fill a cup with soda from the fountain, and return to Leo without spilling the contents or losing the cup. Mikey had a habit of getting distracted so he was put through such exercises twice as often as the others.

Run of the mill, textbook infiltration-without-detection and return to Leo in the shadows.

They all had performed such things a hundred times. Honing their skills. Making sure they upheld the ninja code of operating from the shadows, completely unseen.

But Raph wanted to be out in the city. Patrolling the streets or simply resting high atop a skyscraper. He just wanted freedom. To be away from the lair. Away from his brothers. Away from the smothering atmosphere of communal living. He needed space. Solitude. Room to breathe.

Unfortunately, he had to remain at base, pretending to be backup in case Leo called. It was nerve wracking. Boring.

Raph paced, unable to channel the energy coursing through his veins. He needed to be out there! Doing something! Putting his energy, and talents, to good use. Not stuck underground listening to Mikey's constant chatter over the airwaves about his current mission to grab a soda, only interrupted by Leo berating the smallest turtle for his incessant talking.

The punching bag was still swinging from Raph's unhappy blows. Fifteen minutes and the thought of exercise was more maddening than the actual labor. So Raph resorted to pacing, stalking up and down the winding tunnels, stomping through the main room that served as the communications hub and through the kitchen, where the refrigerator door was slammed to signal a new exodus.

By happenstance, his current route took him by Leo's room. As always, the door was closed. Each turtle had their own room and thankfully, a door that locked to keep unwanted visitors from stopping by. Usually Michelangelo and a cheese dripping pizza.

Hoping to teach Leo a lesson, passive-aggressively of course, Raph tried the door. To his surprise it opened revealing Leo's inner sanctum.

Most of the turtles packed their rooms with things they found entertaining or interesting.

Raph's own room was filled with various gym equipment, some of it broken by his own strong hand. Weapons in need of repair, or parts strewn about to concoct a new kind of weapon. Raph was very industrious when it came to weaponry, designing and creating weapons and scabbards for everyone. And of course, there were the inevitable pilfered posters on the walls of shapely, defined women in bikinis.

Donatello was notorious for having electronics crammed into his room, taking up every bit of wall and floor space. He had even been caught sleeping with his arms around a flat screen. The turtle dreamed in circuits.

Mikey's room was filled with mostly pizza boxes and comics, including some that Master Splinter certainly would **not** approve. He had a small TV in his room to play video games and movies, as the turtle suffered from insomnia and using the TV in the main room kept his father and brothers awake at all hours. Mikey's door was double insulated, making sure his late night virtual combat didn't disturb the others.

But Leo's room lacked the personality that the other three expressed in decoration. For one, Leo's room was so... neat. Clean. Obsessively tidy. Plain. Ordinary. Spartan. In fact, it looked like it wasn't lived in at all. More of a show piece you would find in a magazine.

Bed was made, corners tucked into perfect squares. Katanas were on the wall beside the bed, arranged according to size and each shining with deadly, finely honed edges. Opposite the bed was a bookshelf, shoulder high to Raphael, who stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

The top shelf were paperbacks lined according to height and thickness. Shockingly enough, almost all were romance novels. Next shelf were weapons manuals and instruction books on various forms of martial arts and their implementations. The next shelf held manuals on special forces tactics, military protocols, and books that dealt with strategy: military, chess, economic. Below that was a shelf full of business and communication books, mixed with a few psychology.

Odd. Leo never mentioned wanting to pursue a career in business management or psychology.

Curiously, Raph pulled out a book whose spine boasted of communication with difficult people. By the wear marks, Leo had referenced such material many times. Raph scanned the pages, reading over the highlights about placing logic over the fallacy of feelings when in difficult situations. Many times, as Raph walked by Leo's room, he had heard the unmistakable sound of pages being turned. He assumed Leo was like Mikey, eating in his room and reading dirty comics, but looking over the content of Leo's bookshelf, save for the top shelf, everything was educational, informative. All the tools needed to be a better leader. About listening and delegating tasks. Keeping morale. Setting tasks to do as individuals and as a group to give a sense of cohesion and teamwork. Even during his down time, Leo was studying to be better.

The bottom shelf was stuffed with notebooks. Raph pulled one out and saw a year scrawled across the front. He opened it and found Leo's tidy scroll, labeled by date. A diary. The daily happenings of Leo and his family. There were random thoughts and feelings, nothing out of the ordinary.

Along with Leo's personal thoughts were victories his brother's had achieved. Each day was documented with the progression of their skills and the maturation of their abilities. Leo's words reflected pride in his siblings and never once were there negative comments of failure or incomplete routines, though Raph knew there were many failures during their earlier training. But those had not mattered to Leo. Only their achievements.

Out of curiosity, Raph searched and found the date when Splinter had bestowed leadership upon Leo. To his utter astonishment, it was not filled with pride and gloating, or a prayer of hubris for being better than his siblings.

There was... _fear_. Self doubt. Confusion. Pages upon pages of Leo's misgivings emblazed in ink. Scared of making a mistake. Of causing harm to one of his brothers. Of being inadequate. Of potentially costing a brother his life. Of not being good enough. Unworthy to lead.

Raph stared at the words, everything clicking together as puzzle pieces.

Leo's obsession with their training. His innate attention to details. The way he pushed his brothers, intensifying their training and making them rise to the challenge.

Leo's quiet solitude, spending hours alone in his room, reading over books that would help him be a good leader and to understand the dynamics of his team. Every moment was spent training his mind or body.

Things Raph never even considered. It didn't take more than a minute of self inflection for Raph to realize he would never be able to put as much thought and discipline into being in charge. He would be more of a 'by the seat of the pants' style leader.

Which meant his brothers would probably end up hurt...or worse.

The fact that Leo dedicated so much time and effort into becoming the best he could be, said a lot about his commitment to his position. Something that Raph knew he could never accomplish.

Master Splinter was correct in putting Leo in charge. It pained Raph to admit it, but he was the most qualified. Distant voices told him Leo and Mikey were back. Hurriedly he returned the notebook and exited Leo's room in time to hear Mikey's voice.

"Told you, I got the soda."

Leo was marching ahead of the smaller turtle, his face set in a scowl. He whirled, stabbing a finger into Mikey's chest. "I said to bring the soda to me to prove you had followed orders. I didn't say _chug it_."

"Hey, I was thirsty," Mikey said defensively. "You know that pizza made me thirsty."

"You should have followed orders," Leo reiterated.

"I did!" Mikey half shouted, throwing up his arms. "I got the soda and didn't spill a drop!"

"I have no way of knowing that as you handed me an **empty** cup!" Leo snapped back heatedly.

"Dude, told you. I drank it. Here, you can still smell it on my breath," Mikey said, exhaling heavily in Leo's face.

Leo instantly reeled, gagging and fanning his face as he staggered backward. Somehow he managed to turn a darker shade of green.

"Sorry, bro," Mikey said, waving his hand around airily. "Forgot I had the liverwurst and blue cheese pizza. My bad."

Leo regained his composure, the bottom rim of his blue mask dark with tears. "Katas. Two hours. And if I hear one single sound, it will be another hour."

"Oh man," Mikey griped, stomping off toward the training room. A loud belch soon echoed down the tunnel, followed by the sputtering of a turtle who just got a dose of his own noisome medicine.

Leo glanced to Raph, his blue eyes narrowed at the inevitable argument about such training sessions. "Raph, you're next."

Raph smirked viciously, sauntering toward Leo. He accepted the fact Leo was better suited to leadership, but that didn't mean he couldn't wind his brother up. Friction is what made them such a good team.

"Okay, but let's make this interesting. No more child's play." Happiness raced through Raph's veins at seeing Leo's shock, but he hid his amusement behind his usual facade of acerbic dissonance. "In fact, I think I'm going to steal a car. Go for a joyride, and leave no evidence."

"What?" Leo barked, chasing after Raph down the tunnel that lead to one of the access points. "That's not how we train, Raph! Where are you going? Come back here!"

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I have a feeling Raph WOULD steal a car, just to piss off Leo... bringing it back, of course. Turtles were raised better than to be thugs. And their training underground can only go so far. The real world is full of obstacles and cameras that make their secrecy very difficult. I don't see Leo having them to do bad things, like stealing cash from a till or robbing an ATM or acts of vandalism or destruction, but doing something simple, like retrieving a soda from the fountain without tripping alarms and not spilling a drink would be something he'd think of to help keep their skills sharp. Leaving behind payment for the drinks, of course... turtles aren't thieves. ;)


End file.
